


Instrument

by purajobot935



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Music, Musical Instruments, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purajobot935/pseuds/purajobot935
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prowl hears a strange new sound at the Ark and wonders where it's coming from. He finds Jazz with a new toy of sorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Instrument

  
**Instrument.**

It was a strange sound that caused Prowl to halt mid-step in the hall and strain his audio receptors to try and pick up on it again. He’d been on his way back to his quarters from the Command Center after a particularly long shift when he’d first heard it – a low sound, warm and inviting, smooth and, dare he say it, sexy, like the caress of a lover.

Prowl found himself smiling at that last thought. Now there was an idea – being lulled into recharge by the gentle touches and strokes from someone with unrivalled affection for him – and he knew exactly who that someone was. The key was to find him, but knowing his partner as well as he did, he knew it wouldn’t prove to be too difficult a task.

He was about to detour down another hallway in search of the mech when that same strange sound came to him again and froze him in place. He listened, captivated, trying to recall where he had heard such a sound before, and who could possibly be making it. His keen analytical senses picked out some sort of melody and musical quality within the sound which told him that it was probably some kind of Earthen musical instrument, but which one exactly?

As he processed all this, he found himself being unconsciously drawn towards the source of it, as if pulled by some invisible force within the music.

Nearing the location, he finally regained control of his motor-relays and slowed his pace. He was close enough to the lounge to deduce that the sound was coming from inside, and it simply would not be like him to just barge in and demand the source of it. That was more Blaster’s forte or, he thought as a smile graced his lips once again, Jazz’s tendency.

And speaking of Jazz…

Prowl glanced inside the lounge and almost uncharacteristically gaped at what he saw – almost. He was barely able to stop his lower jaw from dropping, but his optics did widen and glow at the sight being presented to him. Somewhere, a part of his mind told him that he’d just killed two birds with one stone, as the Earth saying went. He’d found his partner, and he’d found the source of the music.

Jazz stood inside the lounge holding a large, golden object in his hands. An instrument that Prowl cross-referenced and identified as a saxophone. Where Jazz had managed to find one large enough for him to play, how Jazz KNEW to play the thing in the first place, the tactician didn’t know. Neither did it matter. What mattered was that the saboteur was playing it, right there in front of him.

Prowl’s doors twitched as he watched his partner completely mesmerize the small audience before him. They sat enthralled as Jazz coaxed out note after beautiful note from that wind instrument, optics following the black-and-white mech’s every move and step. Even from where he was, Prowl could tell his partner was enjoying the attention, but the look on his face told the tactician that Jazz was loving the music he was creating even more.

The saboteur held the instrument almost tenderly in his hands, Prowl noted. Not unlike the way he held him in his arms sometimes. Jazz could be incredibly gentle when he wanted to be – a lover as slow and smooth as the sound that saxophone was making under his ministrations. Jazz’s fingers traveled lightly over the keys and yet pressed down on each one with a pressure that coaxed out a firm but eager note from each one. Prowl knew how talented those fingers were, oh yes. There had been many times when they would skillfully coax the most interesting sounds out of HIM.

And then there were those lips…

Jazz’s lips were closed almost sensuously around the mouth-piece, blowing in the air that was essential for the instrument to work in the first place. Prowl thought about all the times those lips had been closed over his own in delicious kisses that always left him wanting just that little bit more when it was over. At their most lethal they had the power to melt him to whatever whims and fancies Jazz had in store.

Prowl suppressed a light shiver that ran down his back and continued to watch as Jazz played on, dancing slightly to the melodies emitted from the curved portion of the saxophone. There was the slightest impish smile on his face, encouraging the mechs around him to be a little more responsive. Prowl didn’t think they had the power to refuse. Jazz had them pretty much eating out of his hands.

A flash of red caught Prowl’s attention, and he focused back on the scene at hand in time to see Sideswipe leave his seat – as Jazz played a slightly more upbeat tune – and go over to the black-and-white. Jazz swayed his hips a little in encouragement and Sideswipe fell into rhythm with him. Prowl had no qualms about Jazz dancing with other Autobots, the mech was sociable like that and knew his bounds at the same time. Prowl did have a problem, however, when certain mechs forgot themselves and got a little too close to his partner.

So when Sideswipe managed to dance himself behind Jazz and saw fit to place his hands on Jazz’s hips, Prowl saw fit to make his presence known rather strongly.

Moving up behind the slightly-crouched red warrior, Prowl reached around and firmly pulled the mech’s arms off his lover’s armor, giving them a warning squeeze as he leaned in close to the warrior’s audio receptor.

“Mine,” he growled.

Sideswipe gulped and surrendered. “All yours.” The warrior retreated back to where his brother was seated with a couple of others and was greeted with a smack to the head from the yellow twin.

Prowl on the other hand was looking over at a very amused and smirking Jazz who had taken a small break from his playing. He realized then that he had suddenly become the focus of attention and quickly looked for an avenue of escape. He needn’t have worried since Jazz was the master of drawing attention to himself when he wanted to.

Placing the mouth-piece between his lips again, Jazz began to play once more, and as he enticed the music from the instrument, he began to circle Prowl almost like a predator stalking its prey, wrapping him up and surrounding him with the melody and rhythm. His audience was forgotten. Gazing at the tactician, Jazz skillfully switched melodies and began to play to him.

It took most of Prowl’s willpower to keep from pouncing on the saboteur right there. He followed Jazz’s movements almost hypnotically, optics fixed on the blue visor before him, knowing there was a cheeky glint in the lenses behind it. The sound of the saxophone completely overtook his senses and he realized, with no little bit of surprise, that he knew the song Jazz was playing to him. His swiftly melting processor even eagerly supplied the words.

 _Strumming my pain with his fingers_  
Singing my life with his words  
Killing me softly with his song  
Killing me softly with his song  
Telling my whole life with his words  
Killing me softly with his song

And by Primus, Prowl thought, he was. Cheeky little…. That damned saboteur was all but reading his mind with that choice of song. Prowl’s intakes started to hitch, music-addled processor shooting off only one message to the rest of his being – he wanted Jazz, and he wanted him now. Jazz must have received the same message, since he stopped circling the tactician and now stood before him, optics locked, though his playing never missed a beat.

There was a tension in the room as the two black-and-whites sized each other up. Whispers flew amongst those watching about who was going to break and jump the other first, the minute the song ended. Bets were made on the sly and handshakes exchanged to seal the deal, as the saxophone played on and the small crowd watched in anticipation.

As the song began to wind down, Jazz stepped ever closer to Prowl till the final distance between them was only the width of the saxophone. The last sensuous note left the instrument and hung in the air between the two mechs and the small group of on-lookers held their figurative breath. Prowl reached up and gently drew the mouth-piece from between Jazz’s lips.

“That’s had your attention all evening,” he murmured to the saboteur. “I believe it is my turn now.” He leaned in closer.

“I thought you’d never ask, love,” Jazz whispered, as he closed the rest of the distance between them.

The kiss was brief and clean, and just teasing enough to leave the other with the promise of more to come once they were behind closed doors, much to the disappointment of the crowd since no clear ‘winner’ had been established. Not that either of the two cared. While the others debated on who had made the first move and who had jumped who in the end, Prowl and Jazz quietly slipped out and made their way down to their shared quarters.

Once the door was firmly closed behind them, Prowl circled Jazz in much the same way the latter had done to him a little while ago, slowly and steadily herding him towards the berth. Jazz of course, watched all this in amusement as he carefully sat down and looked over at his partner. Prowl gently eased himself on to the berth behind Jazz and wrapped his arms around him, kissing the other’s neck lovingly.

“Do you take requests?” he murmured in the saboteur’s audio receptor.

“For you, I’ll make an exception,” Jazz purred.

He brought the saxophone up and began to play a slow, sexy melody on it. Prowl’s doors twitched at the sound and he placed another kiss on Jazz’s neck, gently running his hands along the mech’s shoulders and rubbing them tenderly, before moving his hands back to Jazz’s middle and lightly tickling under his chest. Jazz squirmed a little in his arms, but the music never faltered.

Prowl mirrored the movements of Jazz’s hands on the saxophone barrel by letting his own hands softly caress the other mech’s torso as his fingers traveled up and down the warm plating. A gentle moan was drowned out by the sound of the saxophone as it crooned out its love song to the two of them.

Jazz finally blew out the last note, then pulled away from the instrument to lean more against his partner, angling his head back slightly to steal a kiss from the tactician.

“So what’d ya think of that?” he asked.

“Oh, it was very good, no doubt,” Prowl replied, shifting back and pulling Jazz completely onto the berth. “But that wasn’t my request.”

Jazz tilted his head. “It wasn’t?”

“No.” Prowl smiled lazily at him, leaning back on his elbows.

“Then what was it, babe?”

“Play me like you play that saxophone, lover.”

 

~END.

\------------------------------

I had fun writing this, hope you had as much reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published 16-Sept-2007


End file.
